War and Peace
by bookfaerie
Summary: Ben is going to war. Felicity is soon involved in the war more than she thought. Just a random story, a continuation, but I don't know if I'll continue. Plz R&R!


"Mrs. Fitchett—how are you doing?" Felicity asked.

The stout, well-dressed and gossipy woman—not quite yet lady—replied, "Oh, very well, but did you hear? Our troops are going against Britain now—just think of it!" She fanned herself with her hand but returned to a businesslike manner. "Now, I must be getting back by four, but could you hand me a little toy drum…yes, precisely the one, with blue paint, and would you have any rock candy in stock?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Fitchett; I regret that the war has depleted our supplies." Felicity's words were true. Business was still going pretty fine, since Mr. Merriman had agreed to only sell colony-produced products, for the sake of the shop. Mr. Merriman and Ben were Patriots, through and through.

"Oh, well…" Mrs. Fitchett sighed. "I'm glad to see there's still some toys allowed." As Felicity handed Mrs. Fitchett the drum, a young man came into the store. The young man had a well-built figure, a handsome-enough face, and was wearing average clothing: woolen breeches for the winter, knit stockings, strong waistcoat and pure white linen shirt and a deep-blue overcoat.

"Ah, sir, I will help you in a minute. You came just in time…the store's about to close," Felicity rushed and half-shooed Mrs. Fitchett out of the store. It was nearly closing time. "Now, sir, what is your request?"

"I would like some bolts of cloth, perhaps fine silk for a friend of mine," the young man said.

"Oh? And may I ask who the recipient is?"

"A close family friend—Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth—Elizabeth Cole…" How strange it was that Elizabeth should be acquainted to this man! "I do believe I know her as well. You see, we are having a Christmas feast on the last day of it…perhaps you would like to come? Elizabeth shall be there," she said fervently.

"Thank you, I shall," and the young man tipped his hat. "Jonathan Miller, ma'am," he introduced courteously.

"Felicity Merriman, likewise." Felicity curtsied and stood up. "What silk would you like—there's still some left from last year, I am glad to see…"

Jonathan pondered a while and picked out: "The light green silk, if you please."

"Very well…twenty pounds, please." Silk was very expensive, coming from the Indies and it was such a light fabric, warm and smooth.

Jonathan gave the money. _He must be rich_, Felicity thought_. Or he has earned enough. Twenty pounds is quite a lot of money, even in paper. _

When the young man was out of the store and Felicity and Ben had finished closing up the shop, they walked home together. "Ben," Felicity started, "are you still signing up to join George Washington's army?"

"I've decided yes," Ben answered seriously. "I will and should fight for my rights."

_I do guess there's no going around that_, she pondered. "But you could be killed."

"Why should I care when I will be fighting for my country?" Ben stopped in his tracks and faced the thirteen-year-old girl. "I know that I have finished my apprenticeship and I am now nineteen, far old enough. I know that I've taken a long time and perhaps you have even forgotten of my purposes, but I am still going." When she gave him a pleading look, his eyes flashed dangerously. "I will not be held back."

It was snowy, and going home was hard work, even with pattens. Felicity's cloak was wet at the hem and her feet felt numb with cold. When she finally saw the welcoming green door, she opened it, leaving Ben to come behind her, and slammed it shut.

"Lissie, dinner's nearly ready," her mother called from the kitchen.

"Don't disclose the topic until I'm ready," Ben whispered in the doorway. In the slightly cramped hallway, they took off their muddy pattens and cloaks, hung them up, and walked into the dining room, expecting a feast. There was still apple pie for dessert as well as flummery, both a treat in the war; there was chicken pudding and a kind of beef stew. Of course there were crisp green beans, barely blanched to make them crunchy. Felicity's mouth watered at the wafting delicious smells. The chicken pudding smelled light and fragrant, but the rich beef stew overpowered the other dishes.

Felicity went up to dress for dinner with eleven-year-old Nan tagging along; wanting to see her elder sister's dresses that went all the way to the floor. "Lissie, what were you and Ben talking about?" Nan asked.

Her older sister sighed. Once Nan asked a question, there'd be no end of it until she gave a decent answer. "We will talk about it over dinner."

This seemed to satisfy Nan, who closed Felicity's bed-chamber door behind her. "Can I try on your blue gown?"

The blue silk gown, worn by the older sister so many years ago, it seemed, no longer fit, so Nan could try. "I'll help you lace it up." Nan looped her arms through the vivid blue frilly sleeves carefully and Felicity laced the dress up in the back. The dress was a little tight, but Nan claimed she could wear it, if only for special occasions.

Felicity took off her green-and-blue striped work-gown and put on a better one, a plain crimson one with plain cloth lace edging, nothing fancy, nothing new. She changed her white cotton mob cap to a linen lace one. Nan helped lace her dress up. Her stays gave her figure a conical shape, and although a little hard to breathe through them, supported her spine.

Both girls walked down the steps for dinner. Felicity's heart jumped a little when Ben was sitting there, a little depressed-looking, his face grim and set with the news he was about to tell. She sat down on a chair, waited for everyone to come, and finally started eating—annoyingly daintily—her beef stew.

Ben stayed quiet, his mouth silent even as he chewed his food. At last, after twenty minute into supper and Nan was jabbering on and on about her lessons with Miss Manderly, Ben cleared his throat.

"Yes, Ben?" Mrs. Merriman prompted. Her green eyes, so much like Felicity's, were fixated on the young man.

He glanced at Felicity, who gave him a nod before he spoke, as a sign of approval. "As you may have heard or suspected, I will be joining the army, Mrs. Merriman, Nan," he said hesitantly.

"And Felicity," her mother added with a nod.

"Felicity already has been warned about this." Ben's air was now awkward and uncertain, not sure how to deliver the news without upsetting anybody.

"Lissie!" Nan shouted, jealous that her sister would know more things about him than she did.

"Shh, Nan," Mother scolded. She turned her attention to Ben. "Since Mr. Merriman has agreed and you have finished your apprenticeship, you have my full permission to go."

Ben's face lit up and he smiled.

"But we all will miss you, Benjamin Davidson," Mrs. Merriman said abruptly. "Especially Felicity."

Felicity blushed. "No, Mother, we'll all miss Ben, no one will miss him especially."

"Then you approve?" Ben clanked his fork against his plate, the sound echoing off the silent house.

"It will be hard"—with a deep breath taken by Mother—"but we support you through and through."

"Felicity, thank you for not sharing it before I was ready." Ben smiled truly at her.

But as Felicity sat in her window seat in the bed-chamber, watching the snow fall down in drifts and putting her nose on the cold window, she thought about how much she'd miss Ben. Ben had become such an important friend over the past four or so years, and she had grown close to him. He was nineteen now, perhaps past that—she hadn't kept count—and eligible to join the army. One image that hadn't gotten pushed out of her mind by singing and prayer was the image of dead Ben, surrounded by blood.

She shivered, pulling her shawl tightly around her. Nan was sitting in bed, reading the horn-book slowly but Felicity wasn't really paying any attention to the Lord's Prayer.

"Are you sad about Ben, Lissie?" Nan asked, looking up to the image of her sister sitting in their window-seat.

"Of course I am, Nan," Felicity snapped. Nan had just invaded her mind and she never liked it, even when her mind felt open. "Why on Earth not?"

"Well, it's just that you weren't so shocked when you heard it."

"I was prepared for it." Felicity glanced at her childish sister, unable to grasp fully the world's troubles. "Why shouldn't I be? The war's already begun."

Nan went back to her horn-book, not wanting to get more lectures by her sister.

She turned back to the window; pressing her hand against the chilly glass and watching it turn white. Then she took off her petticoat, pocket-hoops, and pockets. She wanted, out of habit, to ask Nan to unlace her stays, but remembered that she was in a little hostile mood, so she unlaced them herself, with some trouble, but managed anyway.

She snuggled into bed with Nan; Nan's previous bed-chamber was taken up by Polly. Nan's warm breathing and presence comforted her as the candle was blown out, but for once and for all, she wanted to be alone to think.

Unable to sleep, she padded with her feet in slippers and a woolen shawl around her body down the stairs where Ben was staying, finishing up some papers. "Lissie?" Ben ask, surprised. "You need to go to bed."

A part of Felicity wanted to tell Ben her fears, but she sharply reprimanded herself that it would be silly and useless, so she just nodded and crept back upstairs, colder than she started out.


End file.
